


The Source of Power

by viciouswishes



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-01
Updated: 2003-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciouswishes/pseuds/viciouswishes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 2 AU, a missing necklaces leads Team Angel on the hunt for demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Source of Power

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kattahj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattahj/gifts).



"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. Call me Wesley," he extended his hand to the distressed blonde woman sitting in front of his desk.

"Kitty Langford." She wore a red and white polka dotted dress with a wide brimmed hat. "There's been a threat against my life," Kitty choked back tears. "It's my ex, Victor Romanio. I think he's involved with the mob."

"Have no fear, Miss Kitty." Wesley grabbed his hat and gun off the desk. "I'll take care of him."

 _This is your seven o'clock traffic report for the greater Los Angeles area. A major accident has blocked..._

Doyle reached his arm over and turned the alarm clock off.

"Sweetie," Wesley rolled over and planted a kiss on Doyle's lips. "We need to get to the office."

"Boss," Doyle put his arms around his lover, "can we take the morning off?"

"No, we have an appointment with a Kitty Langford. And Cordelia took the morning off for a commercial shoot."

"You would think working in demon business as we, all our clients would visit during the night." Doyle stretched and walked to the bathroom.

"Perhaps," Wesley joined him and started the shower, "Miss Langford is worried about her safety in the dark."

"Or she could be an anti-vampire. You know, allergic to the dark."

Wesley shook his head at the half demon.

"It could happen. And are you sure we can't call up this Miss Langford and tell her there was an emergency and we're closed for business this morning?" Doyle pouted, watching Wesley remove his boxers and step into the shower. He had half the mind to join in on the showering but knew they would definitely be late; he would just have to wait his turn.

"Not going to join me?" Wesley teased while rinsing the soap from his hair.

"Going to make myself some coffee and a cup of tea for my favorite Englishman. Maybe I'll eat a bowl of Wheaties; it's supposed to be the breakfast of champions."

Wesley laughed.

"Did I say something funny?"

"No," Wesley opened the sliding glass shower door just enough to peer out. "Did I ever tell you how much I love you."

"Not enough," Doyle smiled. "I love you too, you know. So two bowls of Wheaties for two champions?"

******

"I can't believe she's an hour late," Doyle groaned.

"She'll be here," Wesley assured him. "I had a dream about this meeting last night."

"I thought I was the one with the prophetic visions. Your dream means we really need the money; don't we? Cordy wasn't joking when she said you needed to start recycling your teabags."

"Don't worry about the finances," Wesley laid his hand on Doyle's shoulder. "You take care of those visions, and I'll be concerned with the finances."

"So I'm a kept man?"

"Excuse me," Kitty Langford walked toward Wesley's desk. "Which one of you is Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?"

"You must be Miss Langford," Wesley extended his hand. "I'm Wesley and this is my associate, Doyle. Please have a seat and can I get you a cup of coffee or tea?"

"No thank you." Kitty looked twice before sitting down on the poorly upholstered chair in front of Wesley's desk. "If you don't mind, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, I'd like to speak to you alone about the matter at hand."

"Of course," Wesley glanced at Doyle, who looked around wondering exactly where in the one room office he was suppose to go.

"Been meaning to go grocery shopping," Doyle sauntered out of Angel Investigations.

"Are you guys superheroes or something?" Kitty asked. "My friend, Penny, said that one of you, Angel, was the trench coated savior. Is he here?"

"Unfortunately, Angel died a little less than a year ago."

"What happened?"

"He died a noble death - saving my colleagues and many innocent bystanders. This was before I joined the team; though Angel and I had known each other in the past."

"I'm sorry," her head bent town tipping her collarbone. "I suppose I expected to meet a knight and found his clerics."

"Now Miss Langford," Wesley's voice showed slight annoyance, "I assure you that we will be able to help you."

"These guys are the greatest," Cordelia entered the office with several shopping bags under her arms. "Whatever you need."

Wesley shot Cordelia a dirty look.

"There was a sale at Barney's," she smiled nervously.

"Cordelia this is Miss Kitty Langford."

"I just adore paying clients." Cordelia sat down and checked the message machine.

"It's a family heirloom that's been stolen." Kitty ignored Cordelia's outburst and simply lowered her voice. "Something evil has taken it." She pulled out two photos - one showed a large demon with a prominent bone structure making a V shape from the top of its nose up, while the other was of a gold pendant supporting a jade snake. "It's a power source for my family. My aunt, five generations removed, took it from an Aztec temple, and my family has prospered ever since. Unlike others who were cursed by stolen goods, my family has always practiced the Old Religion."

"And what will happen to the demon who stole this?"

"I imagine nothing," her shoulders slinked down her back. "Most demons aren't taken to Christianity."

"And what of us when we find it?"

****

"Sure is shiny," Doyle studied the picture.

"Should we call Gunn?" Cordelia inquired. "The demon looks big, and Doyle is still healing after we stopped those demons at the gym."

Wesley leaned over and interrupted them. "He, or should I say, she is a Krutectol native to Mexico and Central America. Worships the Aztec moon goddess," he read out of a leather bound book.

"Peaceful, new age goddess worshippers than?" Cordelia smiled and adjusted the clip in her hair.

"Hardly," Wesley's voice grew grim, "the goddess Coyolxauhqui was dismembered by her brother and cast to the moon. Coyolxauhqui demands human sacrifices - as the Krutectol believe that the blood will regenerate the goddess."

"We always have the mostly lovely nasties. I'm paging Gunn." She turned to the phone.

*****

"Where the fuck are we going, English?" Gunn covered his nose. "Can't demons clean up after themselves?"

"Hey, half demon standing right here," Doyle protested.

"He does leave his wet towels on the floor." Wesley stepped in a shallow puddle, splashing the liquids on his trouser leg. "Ugh."

"Instant karma," Doyle smirked.

"Does this mean anything?" Gunn held up a burnt white candle, setting his axe against the dark walls of the sewer tunnel.

"It looks like the water's source is down the right tunnel. They must be preparing for a sacrifice to Coyolxauhqui. That is if our timing is correct." Wesley led Doyle and Gunn into a corridor.

Doyle picked up an object from the ground. "It's a necklace. Looks like turquoise with a large silver medallion. Perhaps something the female demons wear. The stone is roughly cut, not like anything you'd buy in L.A."

"You're starting to sound like Wes," Gunn shook his head. "Maybe one of the humans pulled it off. I'd be fighting if ugly chick was trying to sacrifice me." Gunn searched the wall for a hidden door. "I can't find a door or an air duct or even a crack for that matter."

"Perhaps it's been magically sealed," Wesley suggested and pulled out a large book from his weapons bag.

"Great," Gunn grumbled, "we're sitting out here not knowing the mumbo jumbo to open these doors while there are human victims inside."

"I knew we should have called Lorne," Doyle sighed.

"That flaming green demon gives me the creeps."

"Good news," Wesley smiled. "The ritual won't be ready until dawn. Bad news, I figured out the translation for 'retuba'; it means 'rebirth.' I believe that they are trying to raise the goddess. And it's unclear whether she once walked the earth or could become corporeal."

"Damn," Gunn finished re-sweeping the walls from a passageway.

"Gunn, we do need Lorne. Could you get him? I believe that the Krutectol's language is similar to Pylean and I could use some help with the translation."

"And if these warrior priestesses come back?"

"I've got Doyle."

"Fine." Gunn handed Doyle his axe and headed to Caritas.

"Damn," Wesley unbuttoned the top of his collar. He didn't feel confident in his translation of the text. Suddenly, he felt as though he was back at the Watcher's Academy taking an exam on ancient languages. He always worried more than the other boys did; they always seemed to catch on sooner.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." Doyle ran his fingers through Wesley's hair.

"Aren't you supposed to be on the lookout?" Wesley leaned closer and planted a kiss on his cheek. "If someone ignores his orders, he might have to be punished."

"I'll remember that for later." Doyle lowered his head in a laugh and read a few lines form the book. "Doesn't this mean 'say friend and enter?' You would have thought that a centuries old demon race would be more creative than stealing Tolkien lines." He walked over to the far wall and said, "Lynata."

"Ugh, Doyle sweetie, we really should have waited for Gunn and Lorne." One of the three Krutectol jumped toward Wesley and knocked him to the floor. "Aim for the soft spot between the bone structures on their foreheads." He threw the demon off to the side. To his surprise there were no humans in the small room.

"Thanks." Doyle lifted the axe and sent it smashing into the forehead of the slowest of the three. As the third went to aid her fallen companion, Doyle allowed his Brakken side to come out in full force. He looked over to make sure the one Wesley was fighting didn't overpower him.

Wesley had managed to stab the female in her arm, and she cried out in pain. As she held her arm, Doyle ran behind her and held her still. Wesley took this opportunity to thrust his sword deeply between her V.

The remaining Krutectol froze near her first fallen companion. "Lynata!," she wailed. "Intruders," she continued in very broken English. "You have no place here. You do not understand. Coyolxauhqui punish you. Humans be stopped." She ran to retrieve the Langford's heirloom from a makeshift alter.

"No you don't." Doyle followed her path, swinging the axe. She reached one of her claws out and made a deep cut along the left side of his face. He hit her in the stomach, spilling bluish grey blood onto the alter.

"No. The Castilians cannot have." And she fell to the ground. Wesley delivered the deathblow to her head and picked up the necklace. He sat down next to Doyle in order to take a closer look at his lover's wounds.

"Ouch," he recoiled to Wesley's touch, his demon side fading. "I don't think that I should have done that." The wound had opened up even larger on his face.

"Well at least we can take you to a hospital for stitches." Wesley helped Doyle to his feet.

"But Cordelia so enjoys sewing us back together."

******

"Hold still," Cordelia instructed Doyle as she patched up his cheek. "You're lucky that this isn't any deeper or you might have to deal with a real nurse."

"And miss this wonderful bedside manner. Never," he smiled. She tugged on the thread. "Ouch! Now what did you go and do that for?"

"Cordelia have you contacted Miss Langford?" Wesley inquired.

"No, I've been too busy fixing your boyfriend."

"Good," Wesley searched for a book on the shelves. "There was something about the last female's actions that puzzle me. I want to read more on this heirloom before delivering it to Miss Langford."

"Heard we missed the big fight," Gunn entered with office with Lorne. "Couldn't have waited?"

"Doyle discovered the translation and got a little ahead of himself," Wesley mumbled from his desk.

Doyle frowned. Sometimes Wesley made him feel like the four-year-old who was caught coloring on the walls.

"Well I, for one, am not sorry to miss out on the hack-and-slash," Lorne shivered. "I can get plenty of that on cable television."

"Fuck," Doyle groaned and reached toward his face.

Cordelia pulled back, worried she was hurting Doyle. "Sorry, I thought..."

"Vision," Doyle gasped and Wesley burst up from his desk. The room was spinning, and three Krutectols, possibly the ones he and Wesley had killed, were looming over four humans. One of them was Kitty Langford and the others were three unidentified women. The largest Krutectol reached over and slit Kitty's throat. A swirling black mist covered the room. Doyle's sight jumped back to reality.

"What did you see?" Wesley held him firmly in his arms.

Doyle kept back tears. "It was the sacrifice they were performing. I don't think we should have killed them."

"Neither do I. Lorne, there's a text I could use your help translating."

*****

"Glad to see you've found my heirloom, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce," a smile spread over Kitty Langford's lips.

"Three demons were killed in the process. Here's the bill," Wesley handed Miss Langford her receipt.

"No problem," she reached into her handbag and removed her checkbook. "This should be plenty." She wrote the check out for $300 more than the bill and handed it to Wesley.

"Let the light be shown," Lorne chanted while walking in a circle around Miss Langford. "Let the light be shown. And the veil fall down." He threw the gold and jade necklace on the floor and stomped on it. "Too bad. That would have looked great with my black dress shirt."

"What is the meaning of this?" she shouted out frustration and changed into a black demon whose body seemed to be made of sand.

"You were a hell of a lot cuter as a human," Gunn came charging at her with a broad sword. She pushed him off easily.

"You humans will pay for your treachery. Coyolxauhqui will manifest, and the human scourge of the earth will be purged."

"Hate to tell you." Doyle attacked her from the right. "But all demons that walk the earth are part human."

Gunn had recovered and sliced the demon down the middle. The rest of her body melted into a puddle of ooze.

"That's never going to come out of the carpet!" Cordelia gaped at the carpet.

"Try a little club soda," Lorne suggested.

"I think we all should go out for a drink," Doyle advocated. "And I believe that Lorne could advise us to the perfect place."

"And what about the carpet." Cordelia stood with her hands on her hips.

"If this generous check from our ooze demon doesn't bounce, we'll be able to afford new carpet. And Doyle is right, we all need a break." Wesley joined Doyle and linked his arm through Doyle's. "Let's head out."

"As long as you don't poison us with another version of 'I've Got You Babe,'" Doyle teased him.


End file.
